


make me feel the same

by NSFWjerky (freezerjerky)



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Implied Voyeurism, Multi, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Sex Toys, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 01:29:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/NSFWjerky
Summary: In which Newt has four boyfriends who look incredibly similar to his lab partner.





	make me feel the same

**Author's Note:**

  * For [feriowind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feriowind/gifts).



> Written for the lovely Ferio who has the most wonderfully naughty ideas in their head. <3
> 
> Characters featured in this fic are:  
> Owen Harper from Torchwood  
> The Scientist from Always Sunny  
> Stryver from The Dark Knight Rises  
> Adam from Forever
> 
> Had to dig deep into my knowledge of Burn Gorman's film and tv career
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ pendragoff and on twitter @ newtguzzler or nutguzzIer if you want some lewd (and maybe to find out some info on how I can write something for you ;))

Newt thinks he’s a man of many weaknesses. Snack foods, monster movies, the old beat up copies of manga he keeps under his desk- honestly the list could go on. If he had to name one singular, greatest weakness though, it would come to him easily enough. He’s absolutely weak at the knees for a pair of brown eyes with long lashes.

Okay, it’s more specific than that. Ideally, those brown eyes belong to a man with sharp cheekbones and hair he wants to run his fingers through to make it into a complete and utter mess. Even more ideally, that man will be rather thin and have a large...intelligence. He knows what’s inspired this. He knows who’s inspired this. Only this man’s got the whole “married to the job” vibe and may or may not hate Newt with a passion.

So he dates. He doesn’t really go out looking for men who fit this image and for the first few years, he dates a string of rejects. One timers that are big on loving and leaving. (Which he really doesn’t mind.) Then the dates become...oddly successful. Men want to see him again, invite him to do interesting things, and even understand his busy work schedule and the fact that he’s going to spend all of his free time outside of dating with his coworker.

This is fine. It’s great. Except now he has four boyfriends, and there’s something impressive about being desired by so many handsome men, but it still can be a lot to juggle having such a full social calendar. Oddly enough, none of them seem to mind.

It doesn’t dawn on him how this may appear to others, though, until he arrives in the lab one morning to find that two rather large bouquets have arrived for him. Hermann, the big grump, is typing furiously away at something on his side of the lab (probably a complaint report because probably he hates flowers or something.) The first, a traditional assortment of red roses, has a card that’s simply noted as from “Adam.” The other, made of slightly less typical flowers, some that may or may not be technically classified materials is signed from Owen and has a rather saucy message attached. He knows which of the two men he’s going to call tonight.

“Can you stop dawdling and get to work?” Hermann calls from his desk. He looks more like an old man than usual with his sour expression and his eyeglasses perched low on his nose. Newt thinks he can detect a hint of a blush on Hermann’s cheeks.

“You didn’t read either of these, did you?” Newt asks, holding up the note from Owen.

“Of course not. I have better things to do with my time.” The blush on Hermann’s cheeks only deepens. “Anyway, what or  _ who _ you do with your personal life is no concern of mine.”

Newt chuckles as he arranges the flowers on his desk, away from any of his samples.

 

Owen is the best at this, Newt thinks, later that same evening. What he means is “Owen is the person who is most upfront about the fact that he wants sex” which is really about the same. Plus, Owen doesn’t pretend to act like a gentleman about anything, because he’s not a gentleman. Which is exactly how he ends up in this precise situation, pinned against the wall of his room, still half dressed, as Owen fucks into him. The preparations for the whole ordeal were brief, perfunctory, just enough, and it hurts in the most delicious way. (It certainly helps that Owen is well endowed as well.) He slides deliciously against the wall with each thrust, wrinkling the Sex Pistols poster he’s decided is a very mature and grown-up decoration. (Hermann had scoffed and disagreed, but Hermann obviously has bad taste.) Owen growls, a low rumbling against his throat, and Newt is suddenly very grateful there isn’t a hand on his cock, or he’d come right then and there.

Newt finds that he’s letting out a continuous stream of swears and imploring to a God he does not in any way, shape, or form currently believe in. He’s beyond the point of caring if anyone hears what he’s up to, they have to know at this point, he’s not quiet about anything. He scrambles for purchase against Owen’s thin sweater, only serving in pulling it up as he grabs it it. His nails rake across Owen’s back, the delicious pain of the moment only spurring them both on further. In retaliation, Owen latches onto Newt’s neck, kissing and sucking on the skin, hard enough to leave a mark he’ll wear proudly for days. He remains insistent, kissing all along the bruise, teasing the battered flesh. When Newt’s had enough, he takes his face in his hands, tilts it just enough so he can kiss him, hard and brutal. The kiss feels as bruising as the mark on his neck.

The position can make kissing awkward, the way Newt’s shifting against the wall, but there’s something so erotic about the space between them as he moves. He catches sight of the way Owen’s mouth lifts into a snarl when he rolls his hips in a particular way, or he shuts his eyes to concentrate on the pleasure. The position will get exhausting before long, but Newt’s going to make it last as long as he can, pinned so wonderfully between a beautiful man and the wall.

He feels relief seep into every inch of his body when Owen wraps a hand around his cock, stroking him hard a few times before he’s coming, spilling over his hand between their bodies. He shouts through his release, and Owen follows shortly after, with a very attractive groan.

They lay in Newt’s small bed after, still half dressed from the encounter. Besides the incredible, often mind blowing sex, Newt likes these small moments because Owen understands him. He doesn’t find his firm belief in aliens or monsters or whatever theory he’s leaning towards outlandish (and really, we’re at war with giant aliens who come from the sea, nothing’s actually weird!) but actually, well...that information is highly classified, isn’t it?

“I hope whoever lives next door to you doesn’t mind the noise,” Owen states, in a tone that heavily implies he doesn’t care.

“Oh that’s just Herm-” Newt pauses. Because if anyone minded… “-ann. I’m sure if he minds he’ll say something. Equally loudly.”

“That the grumpy one you talk about all the time?”

“Mhm.”

“So when are you going to start shagging him too?”

Newt tries to hide his faint blush, but his traitor cock gives an interested twitch at the thought.

 

The next night, he goes on a date. It’s just dinner and a movie, nothing too special. Sometimes Newt likes this, nothing too over the top and no meeting in his room immediately for sex. He’s even back to the Dome early enough that he can have sex and be asleep at a reasonable hour. Naturally, nothing can go right in his life, it seems, and before he can push open the door with his date, he’s accosted by Hermann.

“Newton, need I remind you of noise levels after ten pm in the Shatterdome,” Hermann warns, clearly returning back to his own room from a late night with his true love (the chalkboards).

Hermann looks like he’s going to say more, but he takes in Newt’s date, eyeing him skeptically. He’s not dressed well in the least, and he’s probably a bit more awkward than Newt’s used to. Hell, for the first two weeks, Newt didn’t even know his name and just called him The Scientist in his head, but something about him does something to Newt. Looking at Hermann staring him down makes it painfully obvious, possibly to Hermann as well, exactly what he does to Newt.

For the first time, Newt’s allowing himself to realize that the men he dates don’t just have similar features to Hermann, but they all look alarmingly like him. Hermann is far too smart to not figure this out before too long.

“Need I remind you, Hermann, that my love life is none of your business,” Newt snaps, and grabs his boyfriend’s hand, dragging him into that room.

If he happens to be particularly loud while being eaten out that night, no one says anything of it.

 

Stryver is a big spender. Wealthy from doing something or other that’s probably illegal back in the states. Newt doesn’t question it. He likes the way that he looks at him across the dinner table like he’s the most attractive man in the world and he likes the way he tells him filthy things and bosses him around in bed. Newt had, in the past, had the phrase “bossy bottom” thrown around in regards to his prolicivites, but he finds with Stryver he doesn’t want this to be true.

It’s two nights after his last date (because even someone with Newt’s libido needs a break) and he’s back from a very elegant dinner, spread out on his bed. He’s been like this the better part of the last half hour, fully naked with a cute and rather pricey vibrating plug nestled inside of him. It nudges against his prostate as it buzzes. Stryver, naturally, is sitting in his desk chair, fully dressed, and holds the remote control for the device in his hand. Every time Newt gets too close to reaching his pleasure, he changes the setting.

Newt’s biting his lip hard, rocking his hips. He’s allowed to do this, but he has express orders not to touch his cock until he’s told to do so. When he’s sure that Stryver’s looking away, he attempts to touch himself, but this earns a different reaction.

Immediately, he’s pushed over onto his front, with a swift smack delivered to his left ass cheek. He moans at both the surprise of the pain and the acute pleasure he feels. It’s impossible to resist the urge to rock down against his sheets, even if he knows this will deliver another blow. And it does.

“Sweetheart, you have to be good for me,” Stryver says. “You were so good all night long.”

He wants to be good, he really does, so he stills himself, focuses his breathing. It’s not exactly a BDSM thing, though Newt’s not opposed to that, but he likes a bit of a power play in his life. His therapists have said he’s always had a problem with authority, but maybe he’s just not having the right problems with them. Stryver helps him roll over right as there’s a knock at the door. They both glance at the door and wait for a few moments. Someone knocks again.

“Can you get that?” Newt yelps when the plug shifts as he moves. “Can’t let that just keep going around here, could be the world ending.”

Stryver looks annoyed at the prospect of moving, but does, opening the door just enough that he can poke his head through. Newt tries to peer to the doorway, but he can’t see.

“Are you another of Newt’s men?” the visitor asks, and for a moment Newt can’t pick up on the voice correctly and fears for the worst.

“I am.”

Newt is oddly relieved when it’s Adam who steps inside. He’s not even actually sure how anyone can get into the Dome without proper clearance, but he’s not surprised. Security is pretty shoddy, if he’s honest with himself, in their quarters. (He knows this largely due to the amount of dates he’s gotten through so easily over the years.) He watches uneasily, nervously as the two men size each other up. It reminds him of the revelation Hermann had a few nights ago, but this is worse in some ways, because he’s actively sleeping with both men. (Or maybe better because of it? He’s uncertain.)

They both deliberate for a few moments, with no visible hesitation. Adam shifts forward, taking Stryver’s face in his hands and kissing him. Newt wants to say something, comment about how it’s not nice to do that so far from him. Instead, he reaches down to stroke himself and he comes in two swift strokes. 

“Fuck,” he pants, trying to collect himself.

Both men, eyes alarmingly dark and dangerous, turn to him. They look mildly annoyed at being interrupted, but even more annoyed that Newt has disobeyed. Stryver holds up the remote that is still in his hand and switches it not off, but to a higher setting. Newt, overstimulated and sated, shouts, clutching to the sheets for purchase. He doesn’t even dream of using the safeword. This is ecstasy. He’s probably going to shatter into a thousand little pieces and die the happiest man in the world. No regrets or anything like that, either. Maybe one or two, but they’re inconsequential in the moment.

There’s not really enough room for three men on Newt’s small bed, but that doesn’t stop Stryver and Adam from approaching. 

“Hey...guys,” Newt says, feeling nervous. “I didn’t realize you’d be coming tonight, Adam.”

“You never said anything about the flowers.”

“They were fantastic, absolutely fantastic.”  _ I just received a better offer? I completely forgot because I’ve been getting dicked down to within an inch of my life? _ There’s no further answer he can give, and he doesn’t need to.

Adam hums and tilts his head, glancing at Stryver. Newt should think it’s creepy that these two are into each other, but he can’t really say anything about it. After all, this could play out to his benefit. Stryver switches off the plug before he moves onto the bed, pulling Newt roughly to him.

“I’m going to watch your other boyfriend fuck you, dear boy,” Stryver says, entirely too sweet. He strokes two fingers along Newt’s cheek. Almost instinctively, Newt parts his lips. Stryver takes the cue, pushing his fingers into Newt’s mouth. He thrusts them slowly and Newt puts on an obscene show as he moans around them.

It’s almost enough to distract him from Adam taking hold of the base of the plug, pulling it out almost completely before he thrusts it back in, he fucks him in earnest with it. It’s not long until Newt’s cock starts to harden again at the attention. When the plug is pulled back completely, he whines at the loss of contact but he moans around Stryver’s fingers when it’s replaced by two of Adam’s long and agile fingers.

“He loves that,” Adam explains. “You can do that to him for hours.”

“And hours,” Stryver adds, pulling his spit slick fingers from Newt’s mouth. Newt licks his lips.

He shouldn’t be surprised but he is when Stryver slides his fingers in alongside Adam’s. They manage to fuck him in perfect tandem, sliding their fingers in and out of his hole. Once the rhythm is steady, they kiss each other again and if Newt was not already hard (he well and truly is) he would be in a moment. It’s a filthy kiss, theatrical and overdone as they tease each other. Newt knows neither of them would admit it, but it is entirely for his benefit.

Newt’s rocking down hard against the fingers, seeking more friction, seeking to be full. He only dimly realizes that neither of them has taken any of their clothes off and he shamefully hopes that they won’t. There’s something so very attractive about a well dressed man. Adam extracts his fingers, moving to fumble with his belt and pull himself out of his trousers. The lube and condoms are already on the nightstand from earlier and Adam rolls one on and slicks himself, giving a few strokes.

It’s Stryver who holds Newt’s legs apart as Adam slides into him (as though this has ever been a problem for him). He slides in until he’s fully seated, then after a steeling breath, starts to fuck him in earnest, rolling his hips with each thrust. With Adam buried deep inside of him, Stryver leans down for a kiss, something that seems far too tender for the moment. He grabs onto Stryver, holding him close. It’s hard and fast and uncoordinated but it’s working for Newt in ways he can’t exactly describe.

Adam clears his throat when he’s clearly had enough of no attention being paid to him, and Stryver moves behind him instead. He wraps his arms around him, kissing along the other man’s neck and biting down, never exactly hard enough to leave a bruise, but hard. Newt remembers the bruise on his own neck from a few days prior, apparent to the world. He feels oddly loved for it.

“Touch yourself, Newt,” Stryver orders. That’s the sort of order Newt doesn’t need to be given twice so he does, keeping it slow enough he can stave off his orgasm. He teases his nipples with the hand that he doesn’t use to touch his cock.

Newt watches with rapt attention, both sets of eyes on him as Adam fucks him, Stryver’s teasing intensity and Adam’s pleasure almost enough to push him over the edge. Stryver scrapes his teeth against Adam’s neck just so and he stutters his hips, crying out as he comes hard, calling out Newt’s name.

Breathlessly, they both pull away and Newt strokes himself harder. Adam’s moved aside, looking rather pleased with himself. For a moment he thinks Stryver’s going to fuck him next (and he’ll take it but God, he wants to come again), as he pulls himself out of his trousers, but instead he straddles Newt’s thighs, stroking himself in earnest, calling him filthy and beautiful things. Newt arches off the bed as he comes, spurting onto his stomach and far enough that some of the semen lands on his chin. Stryver follows after, moaning out as he spills onto Newt’s stomach as well.

Adam leans down and licks the come off of Newt’s chin. He’s definitely not going to survive if he has two of them at the same time again.

 

They’re lounging together in the bed afterwards, Adam and Stryver still fully dressed but Newt very pointedly nude. There’s something so indulgent about this, draped across two handsome men. This is partially out of necessity because of the size of the bed, but also out of Newt’s desire for closeness. Adam is idly stroking his hip and Stryver kisses along his neck. If all works out, they’ll be fucking again in another twenty minutes.

Of course, nothing works out because in the next moment the door bursts open.

“Newton, we have to-” Hermann begins and then stops in his tracks, frozen to the spot.

“Oh. Hi, Hermann,” Newt says, and he should be more bashful about this, but there’s no reason he has to hide this. This is who he is and what he does with his time. If Hermann doesn’t like it, that’s on him. And if Newt happens to give him a flirty smile? So be it.

“We have work to do tonight. Marshall’s orders,” Hermann continues when he can speak. He’s pointedly not making eye contact with any of the other men in the room, Newt included. There’s definitely the blush of embarrassment on his face and, perhaps worse, a look of hurt in his eyes.

“Alright boys,” Newt says, patting Adam’s thigh before he stands. “I have to go. Duty calls. You can show yourselves out, right?”

Hermann turns completely around at the sight of Newt standing naked and Newt wants so badly to ask him to turn around, to come join him on the bed. He doesn’t want to kick the others out, but he would for Hermann. If only he asked.

 

They’re stuck on a project for the better part of the next day. Eventually, Hermann is able to meet Newt’s eye and eventually it feels like normal. Except the weird feeling that Newt gets when Hermann is around is now so persistent he can’t imagine ignoring it. He’s getting the sense that Hermann doesn’t hate him at all, that he might feel to the contrary. It’s late when they’re finally able to eat and Newt brings them back two trays from the mess hall.

They sit at their separate desks, staring across from each other as they eat. Newt’s phone dings and he pulls it out to find a very lewd text from Owen. He blushes and lifts his finger to his mouth, sucking off some sauce before he answers. His answer consists largely of a string of emojis conveying a very filthy scenario, or what he’s certain is a filthy scenario.

He’s distracted, thinking of what he’d like to do with Owen. Maybe they can get some of the toys out, or maybe they can suck each other off, or maybe… He’s distracted by the sound of Hermann clearing his throat. He looks up from his phone to look at Hermann.

“Another date?” Hermann asks, his tone nearly neutral.

“Maybe.”

“Which one is it now?”

“You don’t actually want to know, so I don’t know why you’re asking, Hermann.” He scowls.

“I think I have a right to know which of your lovers who look uncannily like your lab partner you’re planning on seeing this evening.”

“I have a type. Sue me,” Newt answers, huffing. He grabs his tray, ready to leave this conversation and the lab.

“Everyone but me, yes,” Hermann half mutters.

“No, that’s not true,” he admits, putting the tray back down. “Everyone  _ because _ of you, but you’ve never shown interest.”

“Apologies. If I was aware that all it took was an oversized bouquet of flowers or letting you lounge naked on my fully clothed body-”

“All it took was telling me.”

“Oh.” Hermann’s staring down at his potatoes. “To clarify, I don’t mind that you’re dating other people. Or people in general.”

“You’re just jealous of the fact that absolutely none of those people are you?” Newt supplies.

“Something like that, yes.” Hermann’s blushing deeply. “I actually find it rather attractive when I can...hear, though I feel like a bit of a pervert.”

Newt’s mouth quirks into a smile. “You’ve been getting off to listening to me fuck other men. Is it cuckolding if we’re not together and everyone’s okay with it? I don’t know what you’d call it, but you’re so into it, dude.”

“I am not!” Hermann defends. “I merely make do with what I have available to me.”

Newt’s phone pings with another text from Owen but he ignores it. He can wait, cheeky, impatient boy. Tonight he’s got a whole new set of plans.

“Why don’t you come to my room tonight?”

Hermann lets out a shaky breath and nods.

 

Newt doesn’t get nervous about sex. He just doesn’t, but today he’s feeling about as nervous as he did before his first time. (And that was nearly two decades ago, and he cried halfway through.) He paces his floor as he waits for the knock. Only Hermann doesn’t knock, but pushes right in. Newt’s left to awkwardly try to pose himself in a way that looks appealing, so he ends up awkwardly almost fumbling over his own feet. Thankfully, because he’s in a silky robe, he hopes he still looks appealing.

Hermann’s wearing his pajamas, a dorky complete set. Flannel. Newt wants to fuck him so badly in that moment and he’s very glad he’s already stretched himself.

“He-hey Hermann,” he greets. “I’m glad you actually came.”

“Of course, Newton.” Hermann doesn’t look nervous at all. Of course he’s not nervous. Behind those stuffy sweaters there’s probably a secret Sex God and the flannel pajamas are just a ruse to make Newt think he has an upper hand.

Hermann strides forward, taking Newt’s face in his hands. He strokes his cheek just for a moment before he leans in for the kiss and it’s hard and biting and he’s not sure Hermann’s ever going to let him break away for air. He doesn’t want to. He wants to die kissing Hermann like this because it’s almost the only way he’s going to guarantee he dies happy. Newt pulls him closer, grabs his adorably flat ass and pulls him so he’s flush to his body, he wants Hermann to feel his cock stir with interest, become hard just from kissing such a beautifully filthy man.

Naturally, it’s Hermann who pulls away. “Tell me about your other men,” Hermann exhales and it’s not jealous, but it’s curious.

“The two you saw me with last night- that’s the first they met,” Newt explains, sliding his hand down between them to cup Hermann’s hardening cock. Oh, he’s as big as Newt suspected. “Adam’s got this old world charm, I just can’t put my finger on it. Says all these things that make me think I’m a once in a millenium good thing. Really gratifies the ego.” He rubs at Hermann’s cock, pushing the heel of his palm against it.

“And the other?”

“Stryver. That’s his last name.” Newt smirks. “Rich American. He likes kinky stuff, not too into actually touching me, he just likes to spoil me rotten, make me feel filthy.” He pulls away, only enough to take Hermann by the hand, lead him towards the bed. Before he moves onto the bed, he undoes the belt of his robe, letting it fall aside.

“Oh, Newton,” Hermann says, his voice overcome with desire, gravelly and undone. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he answers, feeling oddly bashful. “The young man you saw me with a few nights prior,” Newt begins, starting to flick open the buttons on Hermann’s pajama top. “He likes to take me on very cliche dates and then fumble out a desire to do something very kinky. He’s a scientist too, I love other scientists.”

“I heard you, afterwards, that night.” Hermann blushes and stops to lean his cane carefully against Newt’s desk. “What were you doing?”

“He made me come just from rimming, absolutely filthy that one.” Newt winks and pushes Hermann’s unbuttoned top off of his shoulders. He drops to his knees to work on the bottoms next, and to give a bit of a tease. Slowly, he slides the bottoms down Hermann’s hips, giving a gasp of delight as his cock springs free. “I understand why all your ugly work trousers fit so poorly now, Herms.”

There’s that attractive blush again, something he wants Hermann to never stop doing. “Tell me about the fourth. There’s another, right?”

Newt’s busy kissing along his thighs for a few moments to care to answer. Tomorrow he’s going to ask Hermann if he can suck him off under the desk and then all his dreams will have come true.

“Owen,” Newt answers. “Highly classified job, but we don’t need to talk much. He comes over and fucks me hard, usually hard enough that I scream.”

“He was, ah-” Hermann pauses when Newt places a kiss to the shaft of his cock. “Earlier this week, I heard you against the wall. I couldn’t help myself, I touched myself when I heard you, you sounded so beautiful.”

That thought draws a moan out of Newt. Would Hermann join him with someone else? Or watch? Would he let someone else watch them? The possibilities were endless. 

“Lay back on the bed, Hermann. I’m going to take such good care of you.” 

Hermann, never a fool, listens to the command, using the pillows to prop himself up enough so he’s not laying flat, so he can have a good view. He strokes himself a few times, watching as Newt leans over into his drawer for a condom and some lube. Newt rips open the condom wrapper with his teeth and straddles Hermann to carefully roll it on. He squirts the lube on his hand next, giving Hermann’s cock a few quick strokes.

“You’ve- you’ve stretched yourself?” Hermann asks, concerned. His brows furrow in a way that is absurdly adorable when he asks this.

“Yeah, don’t worry. You’re big, but you’re not gonna hurt me.” Newt shifts forward, aligning himself with Hermann’s cock. Hermann helps by gripping the base to help him sink down onto his cock.

“Just wanted to be thorough.”

“Oh, oh my God,” Newt moans once he’s fully seated. He gives himself a few moments to adjust before he starts moving his hips, rocking back and forth on his cock. He braces himself with a hand on Hermann’s chest, teasing a nipple between his fingers as he does. Hermann holds onto his hips, sliding his hands around to his ass, showing him exactly how he likes Newt to move. Newt is not surprised to discover that all of Hermann is as pale as he suspected, beautiful porcelain skin stretched over sinew. His body is surprisingly well built, muscular arms and stomach and Newt realizes that years of physical therapy and Hermann actually bothering to take care of himself are to blame for this. 

The enamored look on Hermann’s face is something he wants to capture forever, keep it hidden in some part of him that no one else can touch. The fact that Hermann might love him and doesn’t mind the other men? Perfection. Heaven. Newt isn’t sure this isn’t all just a wet dream.  He rocks harder, nearly bouncing on Hermann’s cock as he moves. 

“Tell me how you feel,” Hermann all but purrs these words.

“Full, really fucking full,” Newt grits out. “Happy, uh, like I need someone to touch me right now. Please?”

Hermann listens, taking his cock in hand and stroking him in time with his movements. Now Newt alternates between rocking down and into Hermann’s hand and it’s a sloppy but delicious rhythm. Almost idly, Hermann rubs at the slit of his cock, smearing precome across the top. There’s a lazy, indulgent pace to Hermann’s ministrations that he didn’t know he was craving. Like he’s completely confident that this thing is going to last forever now that it’s started.

“Hermann, I’m- so, so-” Newt’s finding it hard to finish his sentence.

“Come for me, darling. I’ve got you.” Hermann squeezes his hip harder and Newt’s hips stutter as he comes, spilling onto Hermann’s stomach.

In the aftermath, Hermann pulls him into a kiss. It’s uncoordinated and there’s entirely too much tongue (or not enough tongue, Newt’s thoughts are a bit too hazy) but he swallows the delicious sound of Hermann moaning his name as he comes. Newt stills then, taking a moment to collect his breath until he leans back, carefully climbing off of Hermann, mindful of the condom. It’s Hermann who rolls it off, tying it off and tossing it idly in the nearby wastebin. Newt settles between his legs, grinning at him before he leans over, licking his own come off of Hermann’s stomach. His skin feels warm, a bit sweaty from coupling, but something he wants to keep licking and touching.

“You’re incredible,” Newt observes, sliding up so he’s more or less laying on Hermann’s chest, his arms spread so he’s bracing him.

“I believe you did most of the work, Newton.” Hermann laughs and Newt remembers that this is his favorite thing in the world. And maybe he can have it more often now.

Newt presses a kiss to his mouth, not quite chaste, but with a contented familiarity he’s hoping he can one day earn with Hermann.

“You really don’t mind if I keep seeing...everyone else?” Newt asks, grinning.

“I don’t mind, no,” Hermann answers and there’s a confidence to his answer that Newt can’t quite place but he thinks he’s starting to understand. Hermann doesn’t mind because he knows if it was a competition, he’d win.

“Alright.” He snuggles his head against Hermann’s chest. “As long as they’re okay with maybe seeing me a little bit less.”

Hermann presses a kiss to the top of his head and he doesn’t say anything, but Newt can tell he’s smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Apple Candy" by Ben Lee


End file.
